Page 39 of Blade

She didn’t know I knew why she was at the cemetery. She didn’t know I knew anything about her past.

Ryder knew.

Fucking Ryder.

Pulling into the clubhouse, I ignored the prospect at the gate when he waved. He was an ass-kisser. Sure, obedience was important for a prospect, but the club looked for loyalty above all else. Not fucking likability. This pussy thought he needed everyone to like him in order to make it as a brother.

Clearly, that wasn’t true.

I pissed off my brothers’ right and left, especially lately.

Ever since she had come back.

She wasn’t supposed to fucking come back!

I swung my leg over my bike and headed inside to the bar. Sitting down on the stool, Johnny had a beer waiting for me. Johnny would make a good brother. He did what he wastold without question, without whining. That was more than I could say for some of the patched brothers.

“Everything ok, Blade?”

I grunted, looking over at Ghost. He was sitting at the end of the bar. “Your girl sure is a looker.”

“She’s not my girl.”

“So, she’s available then? Good to know.”

“Go near her and I will fucking bury you.”

Ghost just laughed before bringing his beer to his lips.

“Hey, Blade.” My shoulders fell forward as Shotgun slapped my back. “Your girl sure is something.”

“She’s not my girl.”

“Really? So, you wouldn’t mind if I shoot my shot?”

I watched Shotgun as he sat down next to me.

Most people would assume he got his name because he was good with a gun. Nope, the man took his shot with every girl he met and usually got gunned down with rejection every time.

“Did you assholes not hear King in church? Willow’s granddaughter is off-limits. That means no one is taking a shot!”

I slammed my hands on the bar as I stood and took off to my room. If one more brother asked about Becca, I just might lose my shit.

Laying down on my bed, I couldn’t stop the thoughts of Becca that consumed me.

I still remembered the first time we met.

My parents and I had moved to Diamond Creek when I was seven years old. I hated being the new kid, but Becca made my transition into school seamless.

Eighteen years ago

I hated new schools. This was the third time in two years; a new school, a new name, new life.

No new friends.

As soon as I had friends, we would leave again. Someone would come after us. Someone would find us.

I was sitting at lunch alone when a girl came over and sat down with me. Even if I made new friends here, it wouldn’t be a girl. I sat and stared at her, waiting to see what would happen.

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